


Boy Monster

by Gnomeskillet



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Dark Humor, Gen, Innuendo, Multi, Past Fic, Swearing, allarounduendo, casual discussions of death, outuendo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnomeskillet/pseuds/Gnomeskillet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a young noble runs away from home, his life gets completely turned around when he enters a tavern full of Jaegerkin.  How will he deal with his values challenged, and eyes opened to the harsh reality of the common man?  How will he ever survive all these ill-behaved, violent monsters?  Tune in to this week's Boy Monster to find out!</p><p>---</p><p>A jaeger past fic that focuses on the origins of The Boys, specifically Maxim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jaegers, Jaegers everywhere

He smelled of horses.

Dimo's nose noticed that before anything else. The overwhelming scent of horse and perspiration. Then the whimpering came, and Dimo twisted in his seat to see exactly who it was that wanted people to think they were dying. A young man, thirteen – fifteen at the most and that was being generous, with long ginger hair pulled back into a ponytail, a too white shirt just developing sweat stains, and black boots that would have been polished until they gleamed like the night if it wasn't for the layer of mud caked around the soles.

Dimo snorted, and nudged his companion, a rotund man with a shaggy, dishwater hair and a fez named Ognian. Green eyes lit up, he chortled in amusement, and together they watched the boy stagger across the tavern.

“Unnnngh, I have never worked so much in my whole life!” he moaned, shuffling a beeline towards the nearest chair. Bemused, Dimo watched as the boy’s path lead right up to him, and without realizing the chair was already occupied, he pulled it back, and plopped right down into Dimo’s lap.

“I am never lifting another finger again!” he declared, folding his arms on the bar's counter top just in time to catch his head as it dropped. 

For a moment, Dimo simply sat there, stunned, staring at the dandy-boy now using him as a chair. Then he glanced at Oggie, eyebrows raised, and gestured to the strange boy now occupying his lap.

“Looks like you made a friend!” Ognian chortled, his grin wide as he punched Dimo's shoulder.

Dimo rolled his eyes, then shrugged and gave in, chuckling a little to himself. 

“Yah, Hy guess so,” he agreed as he leaned down, resting his chin on the boy’s shoulders and his hands on the boy's hips. With a smirk, Dimo dropped his voice to a low, gravelly rumble, all but purring into the boy’s ear, "Hey sveethott, hyu comfortable?"

Immediately, the boy tensed, a bright blue eye snapping open and staring up at him from above the crisp white lines of his shirt. “Uh-”

Dimo grinned wickedly, revealing twin rows of sharp, jagged yellow teeth, his eyelids coming down heavily over his pupilless golden eyes. He didn’t know how it had taken the boy this long to notice his surroundings, but he knew one thing: this was going to be fun. He snaked an arm around the boy's waist, pulling him back against his chest. The boy tensed even further, his body on high alert, but he didn’t resist.

He allowed himself to be pulled upright, right up until Dimo rested his chin on his shoulder, the boy jerked his elbow back, driving it into Dimo's solar plexus.

He hit harder than Dimo anticipated, knocking the wind right out of the Jaeger, but Dimo maintained his hold, not letting the boy out of his lap. He hit hard, but not hard enough to deter a _monster_ like Dimo.

“Let me go! Unhand me!” he yelped, looking over his shoulder with his lips curled in a snarl and eyes wide, fear mixing indignation.

“Oh, come now, sveethott, hyu iz de vun who sat down here!” Dimo cajoled, accompanied by the sound of Oggie's snorted chuckles. “If hyu deedn't vanna be friends, hyu shoulda sat elzevhere!”

“Hee! Not like there's many open seats left!” Oggie chirped, and the boy whipped his head around, eyes growing wide as he took in the rest of the tavern. Not many seats left wasn't exaggeration, it was an understatement. The hall was bustling with Jaegermonster and human alike, all of them rowdy and bearing the mark of the Heterodynes.

The only exception were the women peppered among them, who looked just as unsure of the situation as the boy, but far more willing to indulge boisterous crew. They served beer and sat on laps, but most importantly, they didn't occupy a single chair, simply because there were no chairs left for them to occupy.

This realization caused the boy to splutter, falling back against Dimo's chest as he waved his arms in denial.

“But you can't be here!” he protested, looking back at Dimo as he gestured to the room. “This is impossible! Where did you come from?”

Snorting in amusement, Dimo and Oggie shared a look, the latter dropping his chin into his hand with a cheeky grin. “Kinda silly to say that when we're already here, don'tcha think?”

“No!” the boy blurted out, then paused, huffed, and looked up at the ceiling with a long-suffering look on his face. “Okay, yes, but seriously, how? You still shouldn't, couldn't possibly be here!”

“Und vhy not, sveethott?” Dimo asked, arching an eyebrow, pressing his claws lightly into the boy's belly. To his credit, the boy didn't visibly react to the pinpricks, but the Jaeger felt his muscles twitch, stomach curving inward to lessen the slight pain. “Ve iz Jaegerkin. Not many vould tell uz no hif ve vanted to be zumvhere.”

“But that's precisely it,” the boy insisted, brushing Dimo's hand away with a look of annoyance. The Jaeger waited a moment before he put it right back into place, this time curling his fingers a bit, catching the fabric of the shirt on his claws. “You're JAEGERMONSTERS. You don't go anywhere without leaving a trail of destruction and mayhem in your wake, and news of your location travels between villages like wildfire. The fact that you made it all the way here, within several days' march to the Count's castle, without anyone knowing you were coming...”

He paused, turning his head off to the side, his brow furrowed and chewing on his lip as he gazed off into the distance. “...I didn’t even know you left Mechanicsburg.”

“And would you stop that?” he snapped, his voice rising in pitch as Dimo's hand once more crept across his stomach, nimble fingers inching towards the buttons of his shirt. “How old are you, twelve? What do you even think you're doing?”

“Sixty-two, but who's countink?” Dimo quipped, grinning toothily. “Vhat about hyu?”

“I'm sixteen,” he huffed, exasperation tinging his voice as he glared moodily over his shoulder at the older male, eyes flicking over to Oggie, who looked fit to burst with laughter. “And honestly-”

“Ho, vell, in dot case,” Dimo interrupted with waggle of his eyebrows, outright shoving his hand into the open space between the buttons of the teenager's shirt, causing him to cut off mid-sentence with a shriek, all but launching himself out of the Jaeger's lap. Dimo and Oggie roared with laughter as he clonked his head against the bar, slammed into the Oggie, then tumbled to the floor.

“Owwww... That's not funny!” he whined, his face red as his hair from embarrassment. He leaned back on his hands so he could kick out at Dimo in anger, his heel catching him hard on the shin, and he got a yelp for his efforts, but it was so mixed in with the Jaeger's laughter that it hardly soothed his ruffled emotions. He kicked out again and again as the monster and his friend kept laughing, continuing his assault right up until a strangled shout of “Jaegermonsters!” caught his attention.

It caught Dimo and Oggie's attention as well, and while they jerked their heads around, the boy peeked around the legs of Dimo's chair, his eyes going wide at the sight another boy, not much older than himself, wearing a mix of chain and platemail framed in the doorway. “Oh, shoot.”

Then the tavern door slammed shut, and the redhead flopped onto his hands and knees, scrambling in the opposite direction.

“Hoy, where you going?” Oggie asked as he scooted past, looking down with an owlish expression. Either the boy didn't hear him, or he was outright ignoring him, because he kept on going, not looking back once until he was swallowed up by the crowd. “We was just startin' to have fun!”

“Huh.” He looked back up with a pout, exchanging shrugs with Dimo. “Wonder what that was about?”

“Mebbe dey know each odder?” Dimo scratched his chin thoughtfully, staring absently after the boy.

“No, no, that don't make no sense, if they knew each other, wouldn't he wanna run to his friend?”

“Ehnn... mebbe he's a runavay und don't vant to be found?” He paused, eyes narrowing, and cupped his hand over his chin. “Hey, deedn't he look a bit like dot countess lady ve chust killed?”

“We? That was the Master's-”

“Details!” Dimo waved his hands dismissively, rolling his eyes. “De point iz, ain't he a leedle too pretty for a place like dis? Und all dot belly-achink 'bout vurk, like he ain't done it before in his life. Hy bet hyu he vos vunna de count's boys vot ran avay from home, und dot's vhy he vos all,” he paused, pitching up his voice and waving his hands in the air, “hyu ken't BE here!”

Oggie chortled a little bit at the impression, waving one hand dismissively and shrugging one shoulder.

“Hokay, hokay, so let’s say he was the count’s boy,” he relented, a smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s got mighty quick fingers for nobility, don’cha think?”

“Vas?” Dimo scrunched up his nose, completely baffled by Oggie’s statement.

“Your insignia is missing,” Oggie said gently, pointing at Dimo’s hat.

Dimo tilted his head back as if he could see his hat if he just looked back far enough, then snatched it off, staring incredulously. There should have been a pin just off to the side, the Jaegermonster crest cast in bronze, but instead, there was only a slightly less faded spot where it used to be.

“Hy lost it!” Dimo protested, shaking his head in disbelief. “Dere’s no vay-! Vhen did he haff de chence? Hy must haff lost it in de battle!”

Just as Oggie started to shrug, the door slammed open once more, and this time, every head in the building turned to look. Framed in the entryway was an imposing figure, a complete, polished set of platemail covering his body from neck to toe. The face peering from above the armor could have been considered handsome, very strong and angular, with a neatly styled mustache adorning his upper lip, if it wasn't for the contemptuous sneer twisted its features, making him ugly and unpleasant looking.

It was a shame, he had a really nice hat, too. A nice red beret with a bronze house sigil off to the right – a torch flanked by sabers, from the looks of it – with a large, fluffy gray ostrich feather sweeping backwards from behind it.

"Jaegermonsters!" the guard bellowed, spitting out the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth, bracing hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. "Tell me, where is the location of your master? I would have words with him."

Snickers bubbled up from all over the crowd, Jaegers and humans exchanging smirks and eyerolls. It took a bit for someone to speak up, but when they did, the man did not like it. “Yah, sure, und who are hyu?”

"I am Bastian Von Schmittelfritz, Captain of the Blitzengaard castle guard!” he snapped, puffing his chest up even more. If he puffed up any more, his feet were likely to leave the ground. “A week ago, the Count's youngest son, Maximilian has disappeared. We presume he has been abducted and YOU lot have become the prime suspects.”

He paused, sniffing imperiously, tossing his head, and folding his hands behind his back. “As such, it is to your benefit to cooperate.”

This time, Dimo was the one who spoke up, arching an eyebrow skeptically. “So what's dis kid ve zuppozed to haff effen look like? Hyu gots like a picture or zumting?”

The Gaurd Von Schmittelfritz whipped his head around, glaring daggers at the green Jaeger. “He is sixteen years old, with blue eyes and long red hair. Does that jog your memory at all, MONSTER?”

“Sounds like my oldest boy!” Oggie chimed in before Dimo could speak his mind, which was probably for the best, all things considered. He certainly expressed the exact same sentiment in a far less offensive manner. “His name is Gerhardt, though, and he's not here, he's back with his mamma, helping her watch the bitties. I keep telling him to cut his hair, but he's always says “No Pappa, long hair is the fashion these days, girls like it!” And while I'm very pleased that he's doing so well with the ladies, I would really prefer that he didn't look so much like a ponce.”

By the time Oggie stopped talking, veins started popping out on Schmittelfritz's neck and forehead, his entire force going red as he grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. His eye twitched as he ground out, “Yes, thank you, that is absolutely unhelpful and completely irrelevant to the situation.”

“You're welcome!” God bless Ognian Foglio, the one man who could upset someone so much while being so obliviously pleasant. Dimo patted his shoulder, then turned back to the guard and flashed a toothy smile.

“Vhat my friend here means iz, hyu gonna hafta be more specific den dot, ain't dot right, boys?” he called out, gesturing to the crowd at large. He got a few assorted “rights!” in reply, but by now, most of the pack had turned back to their women and their drinks. Dimo and Oggie had this under control, sitting and watching would be much more fun than getting involved, and few bets were going around regarding whether or not Schmittelfritz's head would explode before he left or not.

“Hey, does he have a nice hat?” Oggie asked, nudging Dimo enthusiastically. The Jaeger's eyes lit up, and he nodded along, smiling brightly at the guard.

“Ho, yah! Ve Jaegers know all about hats! Hats iz a goot vay ov identifyink pipple, hyu know.”

For a moment, Von Schmittelfritz looked like he was about to tell them off, but then he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. Unfortunately, they had a point. “No, he doesn't have a hat. He hates hats. Can't go messing up his precious, perfect hair, can he?”

“Vot? Hates hats? How dare he!” The idea was offensive. How could anyone possibly hate hats?

Throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation, the guard snapped, “Just tell me where your master is! Surely he can't be half as obtuse as you lot are being.”

“That way!” Dimo and Oggie answered in unison, pointing in different directions.

“No, no,” a lizard like Jaeger with far more metal in his face than was ever appropriate and a leather helm, interjected, pointing in a completely different direction. “Em priddy sure it vos dot vay, brudders.”

Dimo grinned as a few more chimed up, and then even more, all of them pointing different directions, all of them unable to reach an agreement as to where their masters were located. They all knew exactly where they were, of course, but this was funnier, and more likely to cause Von Schmittelfritz to blow up.

Unfortunately, rather than suffer these shenanigans, the guard simply turned on his heel and stormed out, to the disappointment of the entire room. Before the door slammed shut, they could hear him bellowing to his men, “SEARCH EVERYTHING. FIND THE HETERODYNES.”

“But what about-”

“AND MY STUPID, DISOBEDIENT LITTLE COUSIN, YES, THAT TOO.”

Meanwhile, the tavern roared with laughter, a few of the Jaegers tumbling to the floor in fits. Dimo collapsed helplessly against the bar, and Oggie flopped down right on top of him, and together they laughed until Dimo was able to pull himself together, wiping away the tears that filled his eyes.

“Hey. Hey. Oggie.”

“Yah, Dimo?”

“How lonk hyu tink it's gonna be til he realizes ve killed his masters?”

For a moment, they just stared at each other, eyes locked, and then Oggie snorted, and they both broke out into peals of laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the best efforts of the Blitzengaard soldiers, Clemethious’s evening passed quite undisturbed. He’d have almost called it restful if it wasn’t for the lovely, enthusiastic bar wench, but she could hardly be blamed for her determined endurance and delightful company. That was, after all, the whole reason Clemethious had brought his personal favorites into town for the evening.

But delightful company aside, it was actually after breakfast, and Clemethious was on his way to the stables to see about his horse. A night on the town was all well and good, but it was about time they be getting back to the rest of the horde.

A surprise was waiting for Clemethious in the stables. A red-headed boy was curled in a ball between a stack of barrels, and an assortment of boxes, knees pulled in tight and head bowed. Snorting to himself in amusement, Clemethious leaned down, bracing one hand on a crate as he tilted his head towards the boy.

“Are you crying?” he asked, causing the boy to jerk and gasp, lifting his head just enough for Clemethious to spot a puffy blue eye curtained by red hair.

“No, I was sleeping,” he replied, words muffled and slurring together slightly. Well, sleeping was definitely a possible truth, but crying was not to be ruled out just yet.

“What, out here?” Reaching out, he brushed a hand over the top of the boy's head, clucking his tongue in disapproval. Soft as silk. There was no way this boy was accustomed to sleeping outdoors, especially not sitting up like that. A prince pretending to be a pauper? "What could have possibly prompted that?"

“There were Jaegers inside,” he whined, and Clemethious had to laugh at that.

“Yes, yes there were,” he chuckled, kneeling down and sliding his hand underneath the boy's chin. He allowed his face to be tugged into view, and Clemethious inspected it critically. The boy’s brow furrowed in defiance, his lips pursed, and deep blue eyes never left the Heterodyne's face. “And who do we have here?”

“My, but you do look familiar, don't you?” Clemethious added, his ever present smile growing wider. "That red hair of yours is quite distinctive, isn't it?"

A bit of fear flashed through the boy's eyes, then he took a deep breath, puffing out his chest and relaxing his knees, stretching his feet out in front of him. He was trying to look strong, trying to look relaxed and in control of the situation. He wasn't a bad actor, and he was picking his words carefully, Clemethious could see the gears turning behind his eyes, but his hesitance spoke volumes. For all that he wanted to appear strong, he might as well be shaking in his boots.

"So what of it?" the boy asked, preening his hair as a show of confidence. "So my father is the local count. I can come into town if I want. I can do anything I want, if I want to."

"Mmhm, yes, I'm sure you can. Are you aware your father is dead?”

The boy stiffened, and Clemethious heard small, sharp intake of breath, but he didn't collapse or start blubbering.

“I... presumed as much,” he replied, the smallest of quavers in his voice, his eyes drifting downwards. “The Jaegers could not have gotten here without going through him...”

“Don't be so sure of that,” Clemethious admonished, tightening his grip on the boy's chin as his eyes snapped back up to his face. “They can be surprisingly... stealthy, when they have need to be. They are hunters, after all. And do not forget, just because your castle is along the way, does not mean it is the only way.”

The boy's brow furrowed, and he jerked his chin free, pushing Clemethious away as he rose smoothly to his feet. 

“Would not, then,” he snapped, hands clenched at his side, defiance ringing in his voice and blazing in his eyes. Clemethious remained kneeling, curious of the sudden act of rebellion. The boy was afraid, of that he had no doubt, but he was not defeated, he was unwilling to be overwhelmed, and that was interesting. “After all, half of Father's forces were out searching for me, and it's not as if a Heterodyne has ever passed up the opportunity to conquer all that he comes across.”

Clemethious's eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh really? That was only half his army? No wonder the battle barely lasted a day. I HAD wondered why it had seemed so easy.”

“Are you serious?!” The boy choked, spluttered, stepping forward and throwing his hands up. On the last word, his voice pitched upwards, verging on hysterical. “Did you honestly not have any clue that Father was MISSING a large number of his forces?”

“Please, boy, I have been on the road for over three weeks. Do you really think I've had any time to bother with political minutiae? When did you even run away?”

The boy looked down shamefully, folding his hands behind his back. “Well, a few days ago, but-” He looked up, leaning forward, expression earnest. “But I've done it before! I have a reputation!”

“Oh dear, isn't that cute. He has a reputation.”

The boy's face flushed, going nearly as red as his hair, his knuckles cracking loudly as he clenched his hands into fists. Cute.

“Well, I do!” The boy snapped, eyes blazing and chest puffing up, the arrogance of a noble replacing the earnestness of youth, just like that. “Perhaps it's nothing to compete with that of murderous, black-hearted Heterodynes, but I am not unimportant. I have family in high places, and when they find out what you've done-”

“You make a lot of assumptions, don't you, boy?” Clemethious drawled, tilting his head back to smirk down his nose at the child, pleased at the way the boy bristled indignantly. “Oh, to be sure, eventually someone will discover your poor, ransacked castle, but my dear child, really. What makes you think they will know it was me?”

There was a bit of a splutter, the boy's eyes going wide, then he rallied and tossed his head, hands going to his hips. “The townspeople-”

“Ahhh, yes!” Clemethious interrupted, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he slowly turned, casting his gaze over the sleepy little village, not quite recovered from the boisterousness of their guests. “An excellent point! I suppose I shall simply have to burn the town and everyone in it to the ground!”

There was a moment of silence as Clemethious turned back to the boy, face split in a toothy grin from ear to ear. The boy’s handsome face twisted beautifully, darkness blossoming over his fair features like a black rose. It was so poetic, it was delicious how upset such a simple statement made him.

“What?” he asked, voice low and full of murder.

Clemethious could have clasped his hands in delight and squealed. The child was so easy to manipulate, and so full of emotion! Keeping his expression careless, Clemethious waved a hand dismissively, indicating the town. “Oh, you heard me. And really, what do you care? They're just peasants, after all, no one will miss them.”

“They are not JUST peasants!” the boy snapped, pushing himself up to his feet just so that he could sneer down his nose at Clemethious. “They are MY peasants, and-”

“And what? What will you do about your peasants, boy?”

Slowly, reluctantly, the boy’s shoulders slumped, and he ducked his head, glaring balefully at Clemethius from behind a curtain of hair. He was powerless to retaliate, and the boy knew it. Still, he snarled and growled softly as he looked away, arms folded over his chest and resentment written all over his face.

“It's not as if you actually care if you get caught,” he murmured, taking a deep breath, his voice full of calm accusation. “This is all just one great big game to you, isn’t it? You don't even care who you kill, you'd probably love it if my family threw themselves at your city, wouldn't you? You'd just sit there on the walls, laughing as your monsters cleave a path through their forces.”

He paused, and Clemethious raised an eyebrow, head inclined thoughtfully. The original assault on the local castle had been a bit of a joke, it was true, but it wasn't very entertaining. The boy clearly thought very highly of his relatives, but he couldn't imagine them fairing much better.

“Well, I won't play your game!” He exclaimed, producing a pin from inside his shirt sleeve. He held it out for Clemethius to examine, his chest puffed up proudly. “I caroused with your Jaegers last night! One of them even liked me enough to give me something to remember him by!”

Clemethious looked at the pin skeptically, then snorted to himself, looking up at the boy with a shrug. “And? What does this have to do with anything?”

“I’m coming with you,” the boy replied, attaching the pin to the collar of his shirt as if that meant something. The boy had to be shaking in his boots, but Clemethius had to admit, the boy had guts if he really thought that would work. “You took my parents, you took my army, and I’m sure you’ve taken all the treasure you could get your hands on. I’ve not got the education nor the influence to rebuild. I have nowhere else to go, so I might as well hold you accountable.”

“You? Hold me accountable?” Clemethious asked, outright laughing at the idea. The gall of this child! The nerve! “If you can’t do anything to save your peasants, what makes you think you can hold ME accountable?”

The boy hesitated, but Clemethious shook his head, slipping around behind the boy, grabbing his shoulders and giving them a good squeeze. “No no, don’t tell me! We’ll make it a game. You report back to…”

He paused, waggling his fingers at the pin on the boy’s collar with a snicker. “Whichever Jaeger you claim gave you that.”

“Dimo.”

“Dimo?” Clemethious snorted. He didn’t believe that for a hot second, but if the boy wanted to insist, he wasn’t going to argue. Watching Dimo rip the boy to pieces would be the most entertaining thing about this little adventure. “Fine, fine. You report back to Dimo and tell him you’re his problem now. If he’s as smitten with you as you say he is, he’ll make sure you’re WELL taken care of, of that I have no doubt.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BITCH, I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU SAW THE LAST OF ME. I thought I saw the last of me too, tbh, but hey, all it takes is a gentle nudge and the ball gets rolling again (thank you, Vivi).
> 
> So, actually, I had all this written up aaages ago, but I never got around to posting it. This was actually the original second chapter, but there was inspiration, I changed parts so that parts of this didn't make sense, it kind of got behind while I wrote five chapters ahead, writing is a mess. But never mind all that, it's here now! I even updated parts of the first two chapters! Go ahead and reread them, I know it's been three years.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed editing it, because no lie, I chortled to myself through the whole thing. I am, as you can probably guessed, easily entertained.

If the guard ever found the Heterodynes, Dimo didn't know. Master Clemethious didn't say anything about it, and they roused themselves at dawn, just as they'd always intended, and after everyone had packed up and filed out of the tavern, and got into formation. Monsters they may be, but they were also an army, and they were a well trained one at that. Somehow, it was a common mistake to think that those were two completely separate things, as the boy's remarks from the night before had shown.

But unlike with the guard, if that was the last Dimo expected to see of the boy, he was sorely mistaken.

They'd been marching for only an hour, just barely made it to the outskirts of town when he saw him, one leg crossed over his lap, the simple shirt and trousers from the night before traded in for a blue military style jacket and a set of crisp white trousers with a matching blue stripe down the side. And to top it all off, Dimo's pin sat plain for all to see at the top of a rather fluffy purple ascot. Clearly, he'd given up and thrown his previous attempt at subtlety completely out the window.

Breaking formation with a low, bestial growl, Dimo stormed up to him, a bright, innocent smile that was tinged with just enough mischief to make it absolutely unbelievable lighting up the boy's face as he caught sight of him.

“Good morning!” he chirped, completely unfazed by the murderous glint in the green Jaeger's eyes.

“Dot's mine, hyu leedle brat!” Dimo growled, jabbing a finger at the boy's throat, and the pin nestled there. “Vhat hyu tink hyu doink, vearink it so shamelessly?”

Gasping in mock scandalized surprise, he touched a hand to the pin, blinking wide, owlish eyes at the accusing finger. “Why, I never! Do you mean to imply that I stole this from you? You hardly have any proof of the matter.”

“Ho, Hy gots proof all right,” the Jaeger snarled, narrowing his eyes as he shoved his face right into the boy's personal space, lips pulled back to bare his teeth, causing the blond to lean back slightly. “Hyu perch all sveet und innocent in my lap, den vhen hyu go, my pin vent vit hyu. Hy ain't zo schtupid Hy ken't see vhen Hy been hoodvinked.”

Clicking his tongue and heaving a put-upon sigh, the boy placed his hand on Dimo's nose and firmly pushed his head back to a more reasonable distance. Dimo almost bit him for his impertinence, but the utter lack of fear the boy was showing this time around gave him pause. What happened to the whiny, squirmy little boy from the night before? He was behaving far too confidently in Dimo’s expert opinion. He deserved to get bit just so that he didn’t get too comfortable.

“Well, I'll have you know, it's NOT yours,” he pronounced, looking at the Jaeger sideways, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “I'VE joined the pack, and Master Clemethious has agreed that you would make a suitable mentor for me.”

“Vhat?!” Dimo shouted in disbelief, causing not only a few heads to turn and stare, but a few of the marching members of the pack to stop dead in their tracks. This, in turn, caused a bit of a pile-up of monsters complete with shoving and shouts of protest, but Dimo ignored it. If he didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't happening, and the situation was ridiculous enough without having the rest of the horde breathing down his neck in anticipation of a bit of drama. “Dot's not- Don't Hy get a say in dis?”

“Oh, of course, and you've already said it, you know. That's why you gave me this pin, after all, isn't it?” the boy cooed, leaning in and batting his eyes as he coyly fingered the pin. “To show your approval of me, and the arrangement?”

He paused, tilting his head and batted his eyes with a coquettish smile while Dimo spluttered helplessly in anger, finishing off with a flirty, “You did want to be friends, didn't you?”

Shit.

Shit, that was it, Dimo was going to kill him.

A bellow of “HYU LEEDLE SHIT!” was all the warning the boy got before Dimo launched himself at him, teeth bared and claws extended toward his throat. He fell back with an undignified shriek, tumbling from his perch as his booted feet caught the lunging monster square on the chest, just barely holding him at bay. Every monster in the vicinity instantly converged on them as drama escalated into violence, forming a hooting and hollering circle around them

Honestly, it was a bit much, and Dimo would have hollered at them all for breaking formation so readily if it wasn't for the fact that all he could think about was all the ways he was going to mangle the boy for daring to think he could put a leash on him. 

If only he could just get a hand on him-!

Beneath him, the boy's expression shifted from surprised fear to annoyed determination, his eyes narrowing and lips pulling back to reveal perfectly white, flat teeth. His knees weakened, and in that moment, Dimo surged forward, only to find a knee driving into his throat, and the toe of a boot grinding into his crotch. He was close enough to claw furiously at the boy now, but somehow, the boy got his other leg up high enough to slam his boot into Dimo’s face, snapping his head back.

This time, Dimo didn't hesitate to bite. He jerked his head to the side and snapped his jaw shut on the boot, his sharp teeth slicing into the hard leather like it was flesh, straight down into actual flesh. The boy let out a howl of pain, yanking back on his foot as the leg braced against Dimo's chest pressed up. With all of the Jaegermonster's weight bearing down and forward, all it took was a quick rock of the boy's body, then Dimo was tumbling head over heels, the boy reverse-somersaulting back into a crouch. By the time Dimo righted himself, the boy was already on his feet and facing him, a cavalry saber in hand and pointed at his opponent.

Dimo didn't notice. He bellowed out his outrage and charged blindly, only to find himself gagging, the taste of blood filling his mouth as the sword pierced straight through his neck. He coughed weakly, rolling his eyes down to stare at the blade in confusion. Where had that come from? He hadn't even noticed the sheath hanging from the boy's belt, but as he looked back up along the blade, he saw it now. It looked fancy. The boy on the other end of the sword looked like he was pissing himself.

“Oh! Oh my god!” The boy barely jerked the blade free before he dropped it to the ground like it was hot, and Dimo dropped to his knees, leaning forward and catching himself on his hands as blood rushed down the back of his throat. He coughed and retched to keep himself from inhaling, dimly aware of the murmur of voices around him, and the way the boy knelt at his side, hovering his hands worriedly, only to yank them back. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I hadn't meant-”

What brought his attention back into focus was the slow, rhythmic clapping and a familiar voice calling out “Good show boys! Bravo!”

He glanced up just in time to catch Clemethious Heterodyne climb off his horse as Jaegermonsters parted before him, approaching them with a look of twisted glee on his face.

“I- what?” the boy asked, confusion plain in his voice, but Dimo snorted wetly, rolling his eyes.

“You what?” Clemethious airily interrupted, an eyebrow arched and head canted to the side. When the boy gestured to Dimo, making a strangled, distressed noise, he let out a short laugh, waving his hand dismissively. “Oh child, is that all you're worried about? He's fine, aren't you, sweetheart? In fact, come here, let me have a look at you.”

To the boy's surprise, Dimo rose to his feet, albeit a little shakily, one hand wrapped around the hole in his throat. His other hand roughly ruffled red hair as he staggered past, the boy plopping down on his butt, watching with his eyes wide and jaw hanging open. Obediently, Dimo stopped in front of his master, tilting his head back and moving his hand away, popping a few buttons of his collar so that Clemethious could get a better look.

Which he did by inserting two fingers into the wound and bowing his head over it, squinting one eye and grinning wickedly as Dimo made gurgling noises of protest. “Oh hush, darling, I have to see how far you managed to impale yourself before you realized something was wrong.”

He glanced up, the corners of his eyes crinkling as Dimo let out a small, whistling whine, eyebrows knitted together. He hadn't-!

“Oh yes, Dimo, this was entirely your fault,” Clemethious smirked, removing his fingers and patting the Jaeger's cheek. Dimo's jaw dropped in disbelief, and he started to protest, but he didn't get out much more than a whispery “But-” before Clemethious cut him off by placing a finger on his lips, green eyes narrowing sharply.

“You really ought to stop making noise before you make the wound worse, you know,” he chided, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as Dimo ducked his head, shoulders hunching up, glowering balefully up from beneath his shaggy bangs. “Hmn, now that's better.”

Removing his finger from its place on Dimo's lips, he pulled out a handkerchief, tying it around Dimo’s neck like a makeshift bandage, then buttoned up the Jaeger's collar. Once he was satisfied that Dimo was once again presentable – or at least as presentable as a Jaeger got – he curled his fingers under Dimo's chin, tilting his head up to look into his eyes. “Now, I found the boy this morning curled up in the stables this morning, and he immediately started making all sorts of silly claims about you. At the time, I thought he was lying through his teeth.”

He was, Dimo thought, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, giving a little stomp to show his displeasure. Okay, sure, he'd flirted a little bit, but he'd done it to torment the little brat, he hadn't actually MEANT it.

“Ah-ah-ah.” Clemethious chuckled, waggling a knowing finger in his face. “It's too late for that now. I don’t particularly care what’s going on between the pair of you, he’s your problem now. You could have torn him to shreds before he so much as screamed, and yet you didn’t.”

“He also got his hands on your pin, regardless of whether it was stolen or given to him like he claims.” Clemethious flicked the bare space on Dimo’s hat where the insignia belonged, and Dimo ducked his head sheepishly, accompanied by the sound of snickering. “You’re getting sloppy, Dimo. This entire mess is the result of your carelessness, so you will deal with the consequences. Am I understood?”

Dimo lowered his eyes, shoulders slumping. Yes, he understood. He didn't LIKE it, and thought the master's entire reasoning was rubbish, but he knew better than to argue, even if his throat didn't have a gaping hole in it. Once a Heterodyne made up their mind about something, there was no changing it. Maybe if he was lucky, the brat would end up getting himself killed some time during the trip home.

Never mind that it was the stupid brat who seemed to have all the luck, lately.

“Good boy,” Clemethious smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder before turning away, pausing to give the boy a cool, calculating look over. 

He sat wordlessly on the ground, feet tucked behind his body, hands braced between his knees, looking up at Clemethious with those clear blue eyes of his, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Looking over his shoulder to follow his master's gaze, Dimo felt himself twitch as he looked into those eyes, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching tightly. The look in those eyes was so helpless, so pleading and compelling, it was hard to resist, and for a moment, he felt bad for wishing death on the poor thing.

It was quickly replaced with the desire to smash his fist into them, just to wipe that look off his face. He didn't like the idea that someone could hold so much influence over him with just a look. The Heterodyne's were one thing, they'd earned the right to hold power over him, but this boy hadn't done anything but stagger into his life out out of nowhere and look pretty.

A quick look around showed that he wasn't the only one caught by the boy's draw. Sometime during Dimo's scolding, Ognian had separated himself from the crowd and now stood behind the boy, quietly, but protectively. And part of Dimo couldn't exactly fault the older man for that. The boy sort of did resemble Oggie's oldest, if he was maybe half his size and twice as sharp. Paired with the man's unashamed love for children, it made sense for Oggie to be a bit protective.

But it wasn't just him. All around, the rest of the pack stared at him, those in the back craning their necks to get a look. In fact, the circle they formed centered around him, their master and Dimo standing practically on the edge. They may have been the most active participants, but they sure were not the focus of this little spectacle.

Then Master Clemethious let out an amused snort and walked back to his horse, mounting up before giving the assembled Jaegers one last look. “Regardless, you've both made your choices, haven't you? I hope you're satisfied with the results.”

With that, he was gone, and Dimo planted his hands on his hips, mouthing the Heterodyne's words back at him before sticking out his tongue. It was childish, yes, but he felt like he deserved a moment of childishness. He hadn't made any choices, and he wasn't satisfied, not one little bit. He got a few snickers from the audience, and just as he whirled around to throw daggers at them, Oggie opened his mouth.

“What are you mangy louts doing just standin' around for?” he roared in a voice that would tolerate no arguments. It reminded Dimo of a parent scolding their misbehaved children, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see some of the more human members of the army cringing in remorse. “We got places to go, people to kill! Back into formation, every one of you! Come on, monsters, let me see you move it, hup hup hup!”

Around him, Jaegers and the humans that rode with them started scrambling around, rushing to get back into line and resume marching, much to Dimo's relief. Being with the pack for twenty years meant that Oggie had the rank to boss the rest of the humans around, but what really got people to listen to him was the way he sounded like he was two seconds from turning them over his knee and spanking them black and blue.

It probably didn't hurt that he actually HAD done it a few times to those who had refused to listen to him in the past.

Chuckling to himself as the area cleared, leaving behind himself, Dimo, and the boy, Oggie whirled on the youngest of the trio, thrusting his hand into the boy's face, wearing a bright, toothy grin. “Hi, I'm Ognian!”

With a squawk of surprise, the boy jerked back, cringing and blinking owlishly at the outstretched hand. His eyes darted frantically between Oggie and the hand for a moment, then he let out a quiet little laugh, a small, shy smile of his own tugging at the corner of his lips as he reached up and took it. "I guess you can call me Maxim."

"Maxim?” Oggie repeated, pulling the boy – Maxim – up to his feet as Dimo joined them, sullenly glaring at nothing and everything. “Huh, that Schmitzyfritzy guy was looking for a boy like you named Maximilian last night..."

"Schmitzy- who Bastion?” Maxim snorted a bit, the corners of his lips turning up in contempt and amusement. “Yeah, I wouldn't listen to that guy, he's a douchewaffle."

"A what?" Oggie asked, starting to move back towards the road, Maxim shrugging dismissively as he followed along beside him.

"Oh, you know. A waffle that's someone's dumped a bag of water on, making it soggy. Which is icky."

Oggie gasped, his eyes widening in horror. "Who would do such a thing to a poor, innocent, delicious waffle?"

"Bastion."

"That monster!" 

Rolling his eyes, Dimo sighed to himself and fell into step behind them, tuning out the rest of the conversation. It was no doubt going to be the same sort of inane chatter he'd be hearing for the next few years.

And if that thought happened to be any sort of comforting, then he was just going to ignore that too!


	4. Chapter 4

Several generations ago, the original von Blitzengaard gathered up his men, left Poland, and headed south to seek his fortune elsewhere. There was infighting within his family, the Protestants and Catholics were determined to tear each other apart, and take Poland along with them, and as the youngest son, he wasn’t going to inherit land or a title anyway. But he had a handful of loyal knights, and soldiers could be conscripted from the peasantry along the way. He was getting out while the getting was good, as far as he was concerned.

Just north of Vienna, in a cozy little clearing tucked up against the mountains, he found his fortune. In addition to being strategically placed, there was a prosperous little village within a day’s walk, with no local lord to protect it. He and his men raided the village, grabbed every able-bodied man they could find, and expanded the clearing to build a castle.

Once he settled in and secured his position of power, the tyranny of Blitzengaard was reduced to excessive taxation, arrogant, pushy soldiers and the occasional round of conscription, so the townsfolk complained very little. After all, the family kept away worse tyrants, which was something to be thankful for.

At least, they had until the Heterodynes.

When they reached the Castle Blitzengaard, Maxim had expected a bloody battlefield, strewn with footmen, horses, and knights all lying where they fell. He expected ruins and destruction, but instead, as he stood at the edge of the forest, he could see tents stretching in all directions, people moving between them like ants over a picnic as fires flickered here and there. 

As it turned out, the Jaegers were surprisingly good at cleaning up after themselves. That was unexpected, although he supposed sleeping while surrounded by rotting corpses wasn’t healthy for the humans in the company. The scent of blood and death still lingered, but the area was clear of bodies, and the castle still loomed against the backdrop of the mountains.

Just as Maxim was moving to cover his nose with his ascot, Oggie draped himself across Maxim’s shoulders, cheerfully chirping, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the smell! Soon, it will be the potpourri that brightens your day!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Maxim deadpanned, tilting his head to glower at Oggie out of the corner of his eye. How could anyone find this stench appealing? It made his stomach want to turn and he was about ready to gag.

Oggie laughed, clapping Maxim on the shoulder as he pulled away. “I guess you don’t have to like it, but you will get used to it.”

“That, and the corpses in general,” he added, snapping his fingers and pointing at the castle. For a moment, Maxim just stared at Oggie as if he’d grown a second head, but as he turned to look where Oggie was pointing, he felt his stomach plummet down to his feet.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the castle so far. He’d seen it nearly every day of his life, what more was there to see? It wasn’t nearly as interesting as the city of tents, wagons, and clanks camped out on his front lawn, but there, dangling from the parapets like a pair of gorey flags, were two corpses. He couldn’t make out their features from this distance, but Maxim didn’t need to. 

Who else would the Jaegers go through the trouble of hanging if not the Lord and Lady of the castle?

“Are those my PARENTS?!” Maxim shrieked, rounding on Oggie incredulously, eyes wide and hands balled into fists at his sides. He was absolutely livid. He may not have LIKED his parents all that much, but they were still his parents. They deserved better than this.

Too late, Oggie realized his mistake and he began to backpedal, waving his hands frantically as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Maxim as he could. “Hey, hey, don’t look at me, it wasn’t my idea!”

“Do I look like I care whose idea this was?” Maxim screeched, the pitch of his voice rising with each word until it cracked, tears starting to spill down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop them if he wanted to, and he wanted to very badly. It was frustrating to be seen so emotional when he’d spent the past day and a half trying to convince people to take him seriously, and now this happened. How was he ever going to get any respect from this army if everyone saw him like this?

Violence. Violence would just have to be the answer. It was the only thing Jaegers respected, anyway.

“How can you think this okay? How?” he demanded, advancing on Oggie with tears in his eyes. “You’re a parent yourself, what if your children had to come home to find you trussed up like…”

He paused, ducking his head and inhaling through his nose, clawing angrily at the air as he searched for the right words.

“Like some morbid, garish festival decorations!” he bellowed, stepping forward and pulling his arm back to take a swing at the spluttering and protesting Ognian.

Someone caught his wrist before he could follow through, which only angered Maxim further. Without thought, he spun on his heel, using his momentum to bring his free first smashing into Dimo’s big, green, bulbous nose. He heard it crunch beneath his knuckles, felt the shatter all the way down to his bones, and it was with no small amount of satisfaction that he watched the Jaeger stagger back, clutching his face.

“I never liked my parents,” Maxim hissed, his face hot and his body shaking from all the things he was feeling. “They were terrible people. My father despised me; he was cruel when he wasn’t ignoring me. My mother made my life miserable from afar; she doted on me only when it would upset my father. Did you think I ran away for fun? Do you think I was playing pauper for shits and giggles? I just wanted out.”

With that, Maxim felt the anger drain out of him, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. He wanted nothing more than to find someplace to curl up and cry alone and out of sight. He didn’t like his parents, but they were still _his parents._ They’d shaped his life and his sense of self. Without them, what was he going to do?

Sensing the opportunity, Oggie darted over to Dimo’s side to pull his hands from his face and fuss over his nose. He checked the extent of the damage - broken, but then, when wasn’t Dimo’s nose broken? - then pulled out a handkerchief, pinching his nose with it and forcing his head to tip back.

Watching them only made Maxim’s chest ache more.

“You don’t think about how your actions affect other people, you only care about yourselves,” he murmured, feeling resentment rise in him again. No one had ever fussed over his injuries before; he’d always been told to walk it off, to shove the pain aside and fight through it. Here these Jaegers, these monsters were taking better care of each other than anyone had ever taken care of him, and what did they do?

They hung his parents out from the parapets like they were hanging out the laundry to dry.

“You’re stupid and I hate you all!” he shouted, spinning on his heel and stomping off along the forest line.

With a sigh, Oggie instructed Dimo to “hold this,” forcing him to take the handkerchief and hold it tight to his nose. Then he dusted off his hands, put them on his hips, and watched Maxim stomp away. “That kid’s got a good arm on him, I think he’ll be alright.”

He smiled brightly, turning his head towards a glowering, still bleeding Dimo. “What do you think?”

\---

As much as he wanted to stomp off into the forest and lose himself, Maxim didn’t actually go very far. He stayed in sight of the castle, knowing that if he wandered off on his own, he ran the risk of bears, bandits, and other things worse than Jaegermonsters.

He scoffed incredulously as he threw himself to the ground, untying the ascot from his neck and pulling off his jacket. Things worse than Jaegermonsters, who would have thought such a thing? But as bad as they were, the Jaegers weren’t going to eat him, which could not be said of many of the creatures let loose in the woods. No, as bad as they were, Maxim knew he would be as safe as he could be among their ranks. He didn’t like it very much, but what else could he do? Go back to the village and live as a peasant?

Ha! Yeah, right.

In the end, Maxim lost track of how long he’d sat there, his knees pulled up to his chest and arms folded over the top of them as he surveyed the valley that used to be his home. You wouldn’t have known a battle had been fought there, really, if it wasn’t for the scent of blood and death that still hung in the air. Surprisingly, the Jaegers were very good at cleaning up after themselves.

Now, the only evidence left was the churned up earth and the city of tents that spread as far as the eye could see. It was strange to think that people had fought and died there. Maxim’s family had died there. People he’d seen every day had died there, and he’d never see them again. Supposedly, the servants were given the chance to escape or join the horde, but he wasn’t sure he believed Clemethius Heterodyne and his rictus grin.

The sound of someone approaching caused Maxim to glance up, pushing his thoughts aside to deal with whatever it was that was in store for him now.

While it wasn’t quite Clemethius’s Stepford smile, Maxim could tell by the smirk on the boy’s face they were related. This Heterodyne was closer to his age, maybe slightly older, and with his windswept black hair and light stubble, he cut a dashing, roguish figure. 

“Don’t see many faces as pretty as yours among the Jaegers,” he quipped, throwing himself onto the grass at Maxim’s side with all the arrogance of a proper lordling. Of course, he didn’t just sit; he sprawled out on the ground, his head propped up with one hand, one leg bent into a triangle.

Posturing, Maxim thought as he uncurled a little, a small smirk of his own tugging at his lips. He was tired and mentally exhausted from the day, but he knew how to play this game. Lordly posturing and false politeness were his specialties, after all.

Mimicking the young Heterodyne’s pose, Maxim twisted his torso and leaned forward enough that the open collar of his shirt exposed as much of his chest as possible, showing off that he wasn’t as feminine as the other boy probably hoped. He couldn’t tell if the Heterodyne was disappointed, but he at least looked, and Maxim was willing to count that as a win.

“Clemethius has made an orphan of me, and I’ve insisted that he take responsibility for his actions.”

“Just Clemethius?” the Heterodyne boy asked, scoffing out his disbelief, his dark eyes lit up and sparkling with mischief. “Not even the Jaegers, just Clemethius?”

“Well, if he has a brother, I was previously unaware of that fact,” Maxim drawled, pointedly tilting his head and leaning in towards the Heterodyne, who chortled jovially. “But a lord is always responsible for the actions of his underlings. I don’t really care who was responsible for their final breath, they acted upon his orders.

“True enough!” the Heterodyne boy agreed, chuckling easily and shrugging a shoulder. “I just can’t imagine him going along with something like that. No one’s ever held him responsible for anything if he didn’t want to be.”

“I think he wants to try and break me,” Maxim sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the pin he’d stolen from Dimo, holding it out for the Heterodyne boy’s inspection. “He’s thrown me to the wolves, but I think I’ve done enough to ensure I won’t be eaten alive.”

The Heterodyne crowed in delight as he caught Maxim’s hand, bending his head over the pin. “That’s one of ours, alright! Where did you get it? Did you actually manage to convince a Jaeger to give you this?”

“No, I stole it.” He tossed his head, flicking his hair over his shoulder as he tucked the pin away and rolled onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Dimo is less than pleased, but it impressed Clemethius.”

Maxim arched his back a smidge, looking back to the Heterodyne boy with a coy smile. “What about you? Impressed?”

“From Dimo, really?” the Heterodyne boy asked, ignoring Maxim’s question, his voice a breathy gasp and grin fit to split his face. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up, bringing himself up to eye level with Maxim. “He’s one of Grandfather’s, you know. He thinks he’s quite slick, but he’s really just a child compared to most of the others.”

“It’s enough to keep me alive for the moment,” Maxim shrugged, feeling a little bit of the wind knocked from his sails. He thought he’d done fairly well for himself, all things considered.

“Oh sure, for the moment,” the Heterodyne boy agreed, and then suddenly he was on top of Maxim, straddling his hips and pressing Maxim’s wrists into the ground. Maxim’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at the Heterodyne boy, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “But I know something that will work better than a crummy old pin, if you’re willing?”

He waggled his eyebrows and Maxim had to snort, his eyebrows raised and smiled curled in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“My name is Faustus Heterodyne,” the boy smirked, lowering himself over Maxim until their foreheads brushed. “And I would like you to warm my bed tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by Baba O'Reily by The Who. I listened to it on repeat for most of the time spent writing this. I have thoughts about it being thematically appropriate for many of the attitudes and interactions I intend to convey over the course of the story, but they should sort of wait until deeper into the fic to be articulated. We're only at part 4 of 13 planned chapters for the first "arc" of the story, after all.


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